


Close Your Eyes, Breathe (Don’t Analyse)

by Aenaria



Series: Cruel, Cruel World (To Face on Your Own) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plotless Fluff, Sex on the Beach, men in good suits make me happy, the boys from brooklyn are public menaces when they want to be, this is what happens when Instagram posts hit my inspiration button
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenaria/pseuds/Aenaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While fancy dinner parties may not exactly be Darcy’s thing, escaping from said party with her two favorite men to voyage out of town to a moonlit beach?  Now that’s right up her alley.</p>
<p>Besides, it’s all Bucky’s idea/fault anyway.  And neither she, nor Steve, are complaining about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes, Breathe (Don’t Analyse)

**Author's Note:**

> This happy, fluffy, and hopefully smutty little sequel to ‘Cruel, Cruel World (To Face On Your Own)’ was inspired by pictures of Sebastian Stan on Instagram, looking incredibly attractive in suspenders. That was the initial start of the story, and it kind of...spiraled out from there. It’s kind of plotless, just a snippet of one night of their lives, but a happy and fun night. This story takes place a few months after the last one, but you don’t need to have read that one first (though I would love it if you did!). All you need to know is that Darcy, Steve, and Bucky are all in a relationship now. Title is from the song ‘Analyse’, by The Cranberries, which is just such a bright and uplifting and happy song, and it seemed to fit the story.
> 
> Eternal thanks to lady-cheeky and kittywings01 for the awesome beta jobs, and to Meri and Rainne for the hand-holding and anxiety reduction as I wrote. Also, all of them are amazing writers too, so go check out their works if you’re looking for more to read after this. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Let it never be said that Darcy Lewis doesn't love a good party.  Her definition of good varies, however.  Nights out at a bar with a bunch of rapidly degenerating friends?  Great.  Casual dinner party with good people?  Perfect.  Euro-disco with a bassline she’ll feel for the next three days?  Hey, if the energy’s right, she’ll rock it.

  
This fancy-ass Stark Industries shindig that she was forced into attending?  Not exactly her speed.  All right, she wasn't forced, not really, but it was impossible to say no to Jane and Thor inviting her to go as their plus one.  They were so eager and bright-eyed when they were asking her, the words ‘no thanks’ died on her lips before she smiled and agreed to it, despite the fact that she had to look respectable and dignified.

 

Still, there are some perks to attending an event that consists of a good portion of the Northeast’s glitterati and all the members of the Avengers.  The first is that the event is being held at Avengers Tower, right in the heart of Manhattan, in a massive room that’s normally a full conservatory, with all sorts of exotic plants, discreet water features, and the heady scent of jasmine flowers in the air.  The room also has a nearly 360 degree view of the surrounding city, spread out around the tower like a glowing, glittering jewel.  The second perk?  Well...

 

Darcy leans against one of the raised tables as her eyes trail over to where Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and current member of the Avengers’ roster, is talking to some local politician who looks like he’s old enough to remember the same Brooklyn as Bucky does.  But she really doesn’t care about the politician right now.  What she can focus on is the deep dove grey suit that Bucky’s wearing, slim cut to flatter his figure, with the jacket opened and his metal thumb tucked lightly into a suspender strap, a sharply glittering contrast to the crisp white shirt.

 

She will not whimper.  Not when there are other people around, at least.

 

Because good god, that look does things for her.  Good things.  Sexy things.  Subtly, she presses her thighs together, hoping like hell that the full skirt she’s got on will make sure it’s not obvious that she’s squirming beneath it.  She’s seen him naked plenty of times before, knows full well all of the slopes and planes of his body, and yet this damn suit he’s wearing has turned her into a pile of mush.  ‘Whyyyyyy?’ Darcy thinks with a mental whine, leaning against the high top table that she’s propped her cocktail on.  Hopefully the drink will cool her down a bit, and she takes a healthy slug of her Manhattan.

 

She will not fantasize about stripping off those suspenders one at a time, and then getting tangled up in them as Bucky and Steve go to town on her, Darcy tells herself.  If she keeps repeating it, maybe she’ll eventually believe it.

 

A martini glass clinks down on her table.  Darcy looks over and sees Steve coming up next to her, his eyes trained on Bucky also.  Steve looks pretty damn fine himself, she thinks, in a dark suit that’s been tailored exactly to his frame and a cornflower blue shirt underneath it, making his eyes look even deeper than usual.  They’re close together, but there’s still a respectable-for-public-consumption distance between them, just in case.  They’re not hiding their relationship, not really...but attempting to explain a bisexual, polyamorous relationship to people?  Yeah, none of them are taking that on any time soon, not while the relationship is still so new.  Better to stay private, at least for now.  

 

Steve purses his lips, fingers tightening on the slender stem of the glass.  “He’s got to be doing that on purpose,” he mutters.  Darcy follows his gaze over to Bucky, who’s now laughing with the politician, head tossing back as a few strands of hair fall out of his sleek ponytail.  The thumb is still tucked in the suspenders, and every so often it strokes at the fabric, running up and down.

 

Darcy just whimpers again, leaning forward until her lips are wrapped around the edge of her glass.  Maybe if she does that, no more undignified noises will come out of her mouth.  She feels Steve’s hand land on her waist, squeezing lightly.  It’s not a risque sort of a touch, to anyone looking she hopes it would seem polite and supportive, providing a young woman who’s spent all night in heels a steady arm to lean against to relieve some of the pressure.  But his hand is warm, almost burningly so, as it lands on the small strip of bare skin between her top and skirt.  She just sighs and sips some more of her drink.  

 

“How long until we can get out of here?” she asks.

 

“Not soon enough.”

 

Ten minutes later, as Darcy and Steve are still huddled at their table exchanging idle chit-chat, Bucky comes rushing over to them.  His hands are shoved in his suit pockets, and there’s a determined look on his face.  “So, ready to get out of here?” he asks, nodding eagerly with a wide grin spread across his face.

 

“Fuck yes,” Darcy moans, picking up her drink and knocking it back in one fast mouthful.

 

Steve, however, gives Bucky a look that all but screams his suspicion.  “Why are you rushing?”

 

“Who says I’m rushing?”  Bucky’s eyebrows arch, eyes wide and innocent, and he reaches out to brush a hand against a nearby vine that’s trailing from a pot overhead.  “I just think we’ve done our obligatory duty here by showing our faces and schmoozing with the public, and now it’s time to move along.”

 

“Yeah, why don’t you pull the other one,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest.  It pulls his suit coat tight across his biceps, and Darcy knows both her and Bucky’s eyes are drawn right to the sight.  

 

Darcy loops her arm through Steve’s, and tugs lightly (not like she’d be able to budge him anyway).  “We’re being offered the perfect escape and you’re complaining about it?” she asks.

 

“The lady has a point,” Bucky adds, nodding again.

 

Steve sighs.  “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

With all due haste, Bucky ushers them to the elevators, and without anyone noticing their quick escape, either, which is what impresses Darcy.  When she goes to make a comment saying as much, Bucky silences her with a quick shake of his head.  It doesn’t take long for them to reach the garage level in the basement of the Tower.  “This way,” Bucky says, pulling out a set of keys.  He pushes them over to a dark blue Maserati convertible, clicking the doors open.  “Come on, get in.”

 

Darcy looks wide-eyed at him, a bit dumbfounded, and glances over at Steve only to find him staring back, equally as dumbfounded with a nice overlay of suspicion in there as well.  “Bucky,” she begins, warily.

 

“Just get in, we don’t have all night,” Bucky fires back, starting up the car and looking around the echoing chamber of the garage.  It’s full of cars but mostly quiet, which isn’t really a surprise.  “Trust me,” he insists.

 

Steve gives Darcy another dubious look, but then he shrugs.  With a precise leap and a well placed hand, he vaults over the side of the car, landing neatly in the back seat.  Darcy shakes her head and hustles over to the passenger side, sliding into it in a far more dignified fashion.  Bucky just grins widely at the two of them, teeth glinting in the low light of the garage, and tosses the car into gear.

 

It only takes a matter of seconds for the car to get out of the garage and onto the streets of Manhattan.  There’s not as much traffic this time of night, even though this is New York City; there’s always traffic.  The air outside is still sultry and warm, settling heavily on Darcy’s skin while the car is stopped at the lights.  When they move, however, she can feel the wind on her face and she tips her head back, letting the breeze race over her.  Even in the midst of all the craziness there’s something oddly peaceful about it, washing away any of the lingering twitchiness from the party.

 

When they hit the FDR Drive, the dark ribbon of the East River and the glittering lights of Long Island City to their left, Bucky takes the chance to gun the engine and get the car to do more than a crawling 25 miles an hour.  It’s quite enjoyable, the car is a damn fine piece of machinery, but Darcy can’t focus on it, not just yet.  More important questions are coming to mind.  “Okay, so what the hell is all this about?” she asks, loud enough to be heard over the rushing wind.

 

Steve’s head pokes between the seats, twisting awkwardly to give Bucky a pointed look.  The light catches his hair in interesting ways, and Darcy has to fight back the urge to pet it, making it even messier than the wind currently is.  “You better have a good explanation for this one,” he says.

 

Bucky’s eyes flick over to them only to quickly return to the road in front of them.  “I may have made a bet with Stark.”  Whatever he says next is lost in the twin groans that rise up from Darcy and Steve.  “Hey, he started it!”

 

“That’s not an excuse,” Darcy says, rubbing her forehead at the sudden headache that seems to be developing right behind her eyes.  It’s not something Bucky would normally do, she knows, but both he and Steve can stir up shit like it’s nobody’s business if they want to.  As she’s seen it in action before, she knows that Bucky making off with Stark’s car is mild compared to what else could happen.

 

“In any case,” Bucky continues on, ignoring her, “Stark bet me that I couldn’t get one of his cars out from under his nose without him noticing.  I felt like proving him wrong.”

 

“You know Tony’s got one of the best security systems around, plus a sentient AI who controls it and sees everything,” Steve points out.

 

“Not if you ask it really nicely to look away.”

 

“He’ll catch up with us eventually,” Steve says, shaking his head and sitting back in the narrow bench seat.  He shifts until he’s resting against the side of the car and drapes his arm over the seat in front of him, so that it rests lightly on Darcy’s shoulder.  

 

Bucky nods a couple of times as he glances over his shoulder, then shifts into the next lane.  “I have no doubt of that.  But until that time comes, let’s enjoy this fine piece of machinery.”

 

“So much trouble,” Darcy mumbles, just as she relaxes back in the seat and lets her eyes fall shut, feeling the wind rush all around her.

 

**********

 

“Okay, no more tunnels.  I could choke on the car exhaust in there.”

 

“You got it, doll.”

 

**********

 

“All right, I am not exactly sure where we are right now.”

 

“According to the GPS, we’re in Staten Island.”

 

“Ack, keep going.”

 

**********

 

“So, New Jersey’s a better choice than even the far end of New York City?”

 

“It’s after midnight, why the hell is this highway so busy?”

 

“Hell is right.”

 

“All right, all right, I’ll get us off of this thing.”

 

**********

 

They’re driving down….well, some tiny back road.  That’s all Darcy can tell it is; she’s got no clue where they are at all so, really, her best option is to just go with it at this point.  They might still be in New Jersey.  She’s not sure.  But what she can tell is that they’re close to the water, to a proper beach, with the smell of salt in the warm, humid air.  The houses they pass are smaller, wind-worn little buildings that scream summer beach shack by the ocean.  

 

Bucky jerks the wheel and takes a sharp turn into a small, empty parking lot, tires coming to a standstill with a crunch of gravel.  He kills the engine and then it’s almost completely silent, the only noise any of them can make out is the soft crashing of waves from somewhere close by.  “Well, that was an adventure,” he says with a grin.

 

Darcy is certain she can feel Steve rolling his eyes behind her.  “This is so going to come back and bite us in the ass,” Darcy says, sighing.

 

“It’s worth it if it makes Stark pull his beard out.”

 

“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky.”  Darcy pushes open the door and steps out of the car.  Her foot twists on the gravel, and she grabs back onto the car to keep herself upright, hoping that she’s maintained some of her dignity in the process.  “Now I don’t know about you, but I hear beach.”  

 

With a spin of her skirt she walks across the parking lot to where she thinks the waves are coming from.  When the gravel beneath her feet turns into cool sand, a nice contrast to the still warm air, Darcy pulls her heels off and relishes the feel of it against her skin.  There’s a breeze blowing along the shore that tugs her hair into whorls and knots, loosening something up inside of her and letting her breathe easy.  The sea smell is even stronger here, and she’s almost certain she can feel a vague dampness on her face when the sea breeze blows just right.  

 

This is definitely not the city, and it is glorious.  

 

The waves are even louder the closer she gets, and a giddy thrill skates its way down her back.  Darcy heads over the crest of the dune that separates the parking area from the actual beach, and then pauses, finally able to see the whole scene laid out before her.  There’s a length of sand, getting smoother the closer it gets to the deep, dark waves that crash against it.  Off to her left is the glowing strip of lights that’s New York City, the sharp lines of the skyscrapers vague yet brightly illuminated from this distance, with the lights of a couple of the closer bridges arcing across the night.  To her right, the ocean extends out, seeming practically infinite with an equally expansive starry sky above it.  “Nice,” she murmurs.

 

Steve and Bucky come up behind her, flanking her on either side.  “Hell of a view,” Steve says, even though it feels like a weak statement for such a sight.  The ocean’s powerful, much more so than they usually give it credit for, Darcy thinks, and she wonders: if she tries hard enough, can she feel the pull of the waves deep in her bloodstream?

 

“Let’s stretch our legs for a bit,” Bucky says, reaching down to strip off his own dress shoes and socks.

 

They walk a ways down the beach in comfortable silence, soaking in the atmosphere and just enjoying it.  This time of night (early morning, really) the beach is empty of all other people, and while it doesn’t quite feel like they’re alone in the world, it’s close.  And such a change from the crazy party life that they just left.

 

Not long after that, they settle in to watch the ocean and the skyline for a little bit, resting feet and tired bodies (all right, Darcy’s body; she’s no supersoldier, and while the boys could go for hours, no doubt, she could use a bit of a rest).  Steve’s kind enough to take off his suit jacket and lay it down on the sand for them to sit on.  “Aren’t you worried it’s going to get all messed up?” she asks, just before she settles herself on a small corner of it.

 

Steve just shakes his head and sits down next to her, leaving Bucky to gripe about Steve’s ‘bad influence’ and toss his own jacket into the mix to make some sort of a blanket for them, even though it’s nowhere near big enough to keep them from getting sandy and those jackets are going to be fucked up beyond all recognition shortly.  There’s a small shoving match over the territory, about who gets the best spot on the coats, and Darcy just sits back with a smirk and lets them get to it.  Her boys can really be rather silly when they want to be, even though not everybody else gets a chance to see it all that often.

 

She likes that she’s able to see that silly side of them, rather than the hardened old soldiers that they present to the world.  

 

Darcy tips back onto the makeshift blanket with a soft, happy sigh.  Even though they’re not all that far from the city, the stars are still blindingly bright up above, making her feel like she could get lost among them if she’s not careful.  And before she even knows it, she’s sliding into sleep, the sound of the waves and the feel of the warm night a perfect sensory lullaby.

 

**********

 

It’s the noises that wake Darcy up first - soft, little, bitten off groans and moans that sound entirely unlike the waves breaking on the shore.  She’s getting to know those noises, becoming more and more familiar every day, and her eyes flutter open, anticipating that she’s going to like what she sees.

 

Reality does not disappoint.

 

Just a few inches away from her, Steve’s flat on his back, crushing the laid out suit jacket into the sand below him.  Bucky’s covering him from pretty much head to toe, slotted neatly between Steve’s legs as he gives him an open mouthed kiss that Darcy can see the briefest hints of tongue poking through.  Steve’s shirt is barely hanging onto his shoulders, the loose ends dangling down.  His pants are equally as open, and Bucky’s hand is wrapped around Steve’s cock, jerking it slowly, rhythmically.  Steve’s feet dig into the sand with each movement of Bucky’s hand as he seems to try and get as close as he can with every stroke.

 

The smirk spreads across Darcy’s face, and she rolls over the last few inches so she can prop her chin on Steve’s shoulder.  “Starting without me, hmm?” she murmurs against his skin, working her mouth into that delicate area right behind Steve’s ear.  “Naughty boys.”

 

She feels more than hears Bucky chuckle against Steve’s mouth.  He pulls away, shooting her a look complete with arched eyebrow.  “You were sleeping so soundly,” he says, hand still working over Steve’s cock with those sure and steady movements, making the other man toss his head and squirm in place.  “We didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“Uh huh.  Sure.  Pull the other one.”

 

Steve’s hand skates up Darcy’s back, bringing her even closer against him.  His mouth moves like he’s about to say something, but instead he just squeezes his eyes tighter.  “What is it, babe?”

 

“I think his brain’s a little fried,” Bucky smirks.

 

“Oh, fuck you,” Steve moans, just as Bucky runs his thumb over the tip of his dick.

 

“Not in this sand.  Talk about chafing.”

 

“Why don’t you shut up and put that mouth to bet--mmmph.”  Whatever Steve is about to say next is lost when Darcy leans up and seals her lips to his.  She scores her nails over his bare chest, then slides them up to run through the fine hairs on the back of his head. 

 

They’ve only been doing this for a few months, so everything is still delightfully novel.  And the discovery of all of the new things is one of the best parts of it all, the way that Steve’s neck is super sensitive when she drags her nails against his pulse, how he likes to pull both of them as close as possible, skin to skin so that they can’t get away during sex, and so many other wonderful, interesting things.  Tonight’s discovery is the way that he can’t quite figure out how to get his mouth to work properly as he gets closer to his climax.

 

Steve’s head thuds back to the sand, eyes fluttering shut and mouth moving slightly.  Darcy glances back to see Bucky’s hand is working even faster on his cock, squeezing tightly with every up and down stroke.  Bucky gives her a grin and a wink, and then, before she can say anything, he bends down so he can glide the flat of his tongue up Steve’s taut, flushed skin.

 

When Bucky flicks his tongue over his cockhead, it’s all over.  Steve’s hips snap upwards and he comes in thick, white streaks over his bare chest that can be seen even in the moonlight.  He moans roughly, and Darcy can feel it vibrate through her where they’re still pressed together, his hand clenching on her back and keeping her tight against him.  She grins, and turns back to press another kiss against his now slack mouth, indulging in the panting breaths on her skin.  

 

His other hand drops down to Bucky’s head, bent over his stomach so that he can lick up the mess, and tugs at his hair.  It’s more than enough to bring Bucky upwards so that Steve can kiss him as well, languidly and slowly.  Darcy takes her own turn with Bucky when he’s done, and she loves the way that she can taste both men in his mouth.  “Feel better?” Bucky asks, leaning against Steve’s other side.

 

“You’re a menace,” he mutters, making Darcy muffle the giggles in his shoulder.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

Darcy, feeling a bit punch drunk even though the alcohol had worn off a while back, reaches out and runs a finger down one of the straps of Bucky’s suspenders, as far as she can reach.  “These are a really good look for you.”

 

Bucky looks down at himself, then back up at her, almost bashfully.  “You don’t think they’re too much of a - a throwback?”

 

“I’m pretty sure fights would have broken out in there for the right to take you home for the night.  So, naturally, we had to stake our claim.”

 

“Yeah, it would have taken a lot of convincing to get you two to leave the party with me,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes.  But then his eyes settle back on her, that little fire inside them sparking to life once more.  “You’re looking pretty amazing yourself tonight, you know.”

 

“Almost good enough to eat,” Steve murmurs, the tips of his fingers running back and forth along the strip of skin between her top and skirt.  

 

She wonders if he can feel the way a sudden shudder races through her body.

 

Bucky stretches upward to nibble at the line of Steve’s jaw.  “That is an excellent idea,” he says.

 

Before Darcy can even blink her boys pretty much manhandle her into a new position.  Steve’s sitting up now and she’s propped in his lap. “Dammit,” she mutters.  They always like to ‘surprise’ her like this, picking her up and putting her down again like she weighs little more than a pillow, and while she doesn’t complain, as it’s always the precursor to very, very good things, she wouldn’t mind a little bit of notice beforehand.  Bucky just grins at her and moves to sit between their spread legs, sliding his hands under her full skirt and over the soft skin of her thighs.  “What were we saying before about not getting sand in uncomfortable places?” she calls down to him, just as Steve’s hands begin to move over her rib cage.

 

Darcy feels his hands move up to cup her ass, even the metal one feeling warm and slick thanks to the humid air, and his grin at her just gets wider.  “I promise, I will not let you get sand anywhere.”  

 

She purses her lips and slams her thighs together, trapping Bucky before he can get any closer, and he looks up at her with an indignant look.  “Again, sand and my lady bits do not get along well.  That shit’s going all over the place no matter how hard you try.”  

 

Steve’s hands tighten slightly on her, and she feels him lean forward.  “There’s a few picnic tables back where we came in?” he says, making Darcy grin.

 

“See, someone’s got the blood flow back to his brain.”

 

“Well, I am pretty attached to those ‘lady bits’ of yours.  Along with the rest of the package.”

 

Darcy winces.  “Yeah, I will rethink that terminology la--oof!”  Without warning Steve picks her up, arms behind her shoulders and under her knees, and carries her over to the picnic tables.  

 

Bucky scrambles along after them, calling out, “Don’t trip over your pants!”  All this does is make Steve turn around and stick his tongue out at him, which reduces Darcy to near uncontrollable giggles.  Still, it doesn’t change the fact that Steve’s pants are just barely clinging to his hips, ready to slip off at the slightest off-pace move.  Unfortunately she can’t reach around to give him a hand, but that’s probably not a bad thing as all she’d end up doing is groping him anyway.

 

It only takes a matter of seconds for them to reach the table.  Steve sits on the weather-worn wood and rearranges Darcy on his lap so that he’s taking all of her weight and her legs are spread wide over his.  She’s still got an amazing view of the midnight ocean and the still gleaming skyline off in the distance, but all of her attention is drawn to Bucky, standing in front of them with an amazingly intense look in his eyes.  With a singular, quirked eyebrow he drops to his knees in front of them, and slowly runs his hands up her calves, onto her thighs.  With the tips of his fingers he traces the outline of her panties, back and forth, until she’s squirming on Steve’s lap.

 

“Remember what I said about the sand,” she mumbles, though it’s more than a bit distracted by this point.

 

“I remember,” Bucky says, pushing the skirt up around her hips.  His head moves downward, below the folds of fabric.  Soon Darcy can feel a tug at her panties, followed by the slight pressure of teeth and the warmth of his breath.  “Holy shit,” she whispers as she feels the underwear pulled down her legs by Bucky’s teeth alone, with Steve manipulating her knees as needed.  When the panties are low enough down her legs Bucky uses his hand to complete the job, depositing the now sodden garment into Steve’s outstretched hand.  

 

Then he ducks his head back under the skirt, and the sight of Bucky’s shoulders between her legs is one that she’ll never get tired of.  She tenses up as she feels his breath against her damp skin, but as soon as his tongue touches her she sighs deeply and falls back against Steve, hips arching up to meet his wandering mouth.   “You two are fucking gorgeous like this,” Steve whispers, taking her earlobe into his mouth and flicking at it with his tongue.  The top that Darcy’s wearing, sleeveless and in a deep, rich blue that’s a close shade to Steve’s uniform, is too tight for him to work his hands under, so instead he runs his palms up and over her breasts, circling lightly with his fingers until her nipples pebble up.  “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching the two of you.”

 

His words make Darcy’s legs twitch, heels knocking against Bucky’s shoulder blades.  In response, Bucky takes one of her labia into his mouth and nibbles carefully at it with his lips.  She gasps softly and arches again, trying to get even closer to both of them in whatever way she can.  She’s not sure if it works like she intends it to, but when Bucky starts to suck at her clit all coherent thoughts go out the window.

 

It’s hard to keep track of how Bucky’s tongue moves, a swirl here, a flick there.  Occasionally he’ll take the flat of it and run it up the entirety of her slit, lapping up the juices there with a groan.  But she notices the movements of his fingers on her calves, trailing them gently across the delicate skin behind her knees, hands never trailing any higher than that, just like she’d asked.  His tongue dips inside her then trails back up to her clit, swirling the point around the hard bead it’s become.

 

Darcy moans lowly, trying and failing to keep the noise behind her teeth.  She reaches up to grab Steve’s hands, where they’re still playing around her breasts, and laces her fingers through his, squeezing tightly.  Steve leans forward again, tucking his head in next to hers.  “One of these days,” he says, “I should draw the two of you like this.  You both look fucking amazing right now.”  He rubs their hands together against her, and Darcy can feel the ridges of his nails even through her top, and his voice drops to a whisper.  “I can’t decide which of you has the prettier mouth.”

 

The words make her whimper, and her hips jerk convulsively towards Bucky’s mouth.  She can feel him grin against her skin, and then, without much warning, his tongue begins moving faster and faster on her clit.  Then it all becomes too much for Darcy’s body to handle, and she almost sobs into the night air as that flashing heat builds between her legs.  She knocks her heels into Bucky’s shoulder blades and digs her nails into Steve’s hands, thrusting against his mouth one last time as she climaxes, gasping as that warmth shakes its way through her core.

 

She falls back against Steve, feeling warm and lax even though her blood is still racing through her.  Darcy tips her head up, brushing her nose on the underside of Steve’s chin as she relishes in the last few moments of that feeling.  With one last lick that makes her shudder, Bucky pulls out from under her skirt, smoothing it back down over her legs.

 

His lips are shiny and slick, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat who knows full well he got the cream.  Bucky leans forward to kiss Steve over her head, sharing the taste of her between them.  From her vantage point she can see the way their tongues brush up against each other, and one final shiver races its way down her spine, making her squirm in place.  But when her eyes drop back down as she relaxes, Darcy can’t help but notice that Bucky’s still hard in his pants.  Achingly hard, it seems, like one sharp move and he’ll rip his pants.  So she reaches out and runs her fingers over the bulge in front of her.

 

Bucky’s hips flex and he pulls away from Steve, staring down at her with a wild look in his eyes.  “Not a good idea,” he says, voice rough.  “I’m a little too close right now.”

 

Darcy rolls her eyes, flicks the button open, and pulls the zipper down anyway.  “Isn’t that the point?” she says.  Using the last of her strength she slides off of Steve’s legs, landing on her knees in the sand below the table with a rustle of her full skirt, which also provides a nice barrier from the sand getting into her still sensitive areas.  All right, her limbs are still feeling a little jelly-like, but she’s not going to need those muscles for this.  She pulls his dick out of his boxers, winks up at him, and then licks at the fluid beading on the head of it.

 

Bucky groans and tips forward slightly, bracing himself on the table with his hands on either side of Steve’s hips.  From her vantage point she can see Steve run his hands over Bucky’s chest, knocking the suspenders off his shoulders and slipping under his mussed up white shirt.  But all that fades away when she goes a little deeper and sucks a little harder, enjoying the way he feels in her mouth and hoping that he can feel it, too.  The soft sounds of her boys kissing reach Darcy’s ears once more, making her grin...well, as much as she can in her position.

 

He hadn’t been lying about being close, because it’s barely a minute before Darcy hears the clench of his metal hand against the table, digging gouges into the weather-worn wood.  It’s quickly followed by his cock pulsing in her mouth and she swallows him down, as much as she can.  She pulls away carefully, slowly, giving him one last press of her lips for good measure, and runs a thumb across her lips to clean up any last traces of him.  Then, hands reach down to pull her up, and for the briefest moment it’s like flying, the adrenaline rushing through her system until she lands on Steve’s lap again.  “Feel better?” she smirks as Steve’s arms wrap around her waist.

 

Bucky just growls, playfully, and swoops in for another kiss.

 

**********

 

Despite the fact that Steve’s body consists mostly of the hard lines and planes of his muscles, he makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow, Darcy has learned.  And while they had stayed up well into the night, walking along the nighttime beach and just enjoying each other’s company, even super soldiers need to sleep occasionally.  Darcy definitely needs to sleep more than that, it’s one of her favorite hobbies, even though the whole sleeping outdoors thing isn’t conducive to proper rest.

 

Especially since the cops could come along at any moment and burst the hazy little bubble they’re in.  They’re not trespassing, it’s a public beach, but taking a nap out there at 4 in the morning is probably not encouraged.

 

Still, a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, she thinks, rolling her head on Steve’s chest to look out over the ocean once more.

 

The horizon’s started to lighten, and the way it looks the sun will be bursting forth over it any minute now, delicate reds and pinks that blend into the deeper blues and purples lingering higher up in the sky.  Even the air smells mostly fresh, the breeze carrying the sea air towards them, full of salt and seaweed and the slightest hint of fish.

 

But...something’s off.

 

Darcy lifts her head up slightly, looking at the beach around them.  Then it hits her.  “Steve,” she says, shaking at his shoulder until his eyes flutter open.  “Where’s Bucky?”

 

Steve’s head whips around as much as it can from his prone position, staring up and down the sand.  But there’s no sign of Bucky, even though his suit jacket is still there on the sand, wrinkled and dented from where he had obviously been lying in it not long before.

 

“Goddamnit!”

 

And that frustrated yell was definitely Bucky, coming from somewhere by the walkway back to the parking lot, Darcy thinks.  It wasn’t an in-pain sort of yell, or a bad guys are coming and get the hell out sort of yell, but it wasn’t hard tell he was pissed off big time.  She and Steve scramble to their feet, scooping up jackets and shoes and hastily running and stumbling back over the sand.

 

They hit the small wooden footpath with matching thuds and hustle their way through the cut in the sand dune that separates beach from lot.  On the other side of the dune, Bucky’s standing there on the edge of the gravel lot, arms crossed over his chest, suspenders dangling off of his hips, and a near thunderous look on his face.  Definitely pissed off.

 

“Buck,” Steve says as they come up next to him, “where’s the car?”

 

Bucky’s frown deepens and he points at the tow truck lumbering its way out of the lot and back onto the street.  The midnight blue convertible is on the flatbed behind it.  “Apparently Stark sent the GPS coordinates to a towing company.  The driver was also told to pass along the message from Tony that says New Jersey Transit is particularly great this time of year, and to have fun braving the shore traffic to get back to the city.”

 

Steve cuts him a look, lips pressed into a flat line.  Bucky just frowns back even harder.  Darcy can’t quite muffle the snickers at the obstinate looks on both their faces.  Really, they’re adorable when they overreact.

 

“Whatever, it was totally worth it,” she says, smiling when they both break and relax into smirks of their own.  “And this is also why they make dress skirts with pockets.”  Darcy reaches into the small pocket buried in one of the folds of her dress, pulls out her cellphone, and starts searching for the number to a local cab company.

 

Oh yeah.  Life is good.

**Author's Note:**

> The beach I sent them to is actually a small beach called Ideal Beach nearby where I spent my teenage years on the Jersey Shore, which really does have some amazing views both of the ocean and of the city skyline too. I have also done that same drive that they did from NYC to the shore multiple times as well (and almost every single time it’s a pain in the ass), though never in a car quite as fun as the one they were using. ;)
> 
> I may have also put together a set on Polyvore to describe Darcy’s outfit (http://www.polyvore.com/summer_party_scene/set?id=155319143). Just sayin’.


End file.
